Chapter 18
BERNADETTE CRENSHAW
Oh Frank, I’ve got you now.
Grandaddy always did say you get more flies with honey than vinegar.
I take a seat on the bare wooden bench in front of an empty horse stall as an idea comes to mind, dangling my feet. I wonder how many sexual fantasies I can play out in a day.
His gaze narrows, and my brows tug together in a wince.
“If you’d just get me my shoes, this wouldn’t have happened,” I mutter.
Not a lie. Even if the piece of straw has been in there since before we started this whole roller coaster ride of flaming horses to somehow actually coming to like Frank Stein.
What started as a snooping adventure has turned out to be so much better than I could have imagined, obviously not the vacation I thought I’d be having right now, but there are definite perks.
My nose twitches, the scent pleasantly clean with the amount of fresh straw. I glance up at the tall wooden beams of the stable, knowing the place must have cost a fortune as it rivals the polo clubs I would visit as girl.
And the man himself…
He quirks a brow when he catches me looking, and a shiver rolls through me. He lumbers closer and I move to unlace the shoes I borrowed from my room.
A feeling I can’t describe enters my chest when he bends before me, causing his white shirt to tighten across his shoulders.
Quit it, Bernie.
Quickly taking the boots off, I push my glasses back up my nose and stretch my legs out, wiggling my toes.
“Hurry up,” Frank barks, not killing my lady boner in the slightest, mores the pity.
I apparently have a type, and assholes generally make the cut.
But I did think we were making progress, I know I saw a hint of a smile on his face earlier. “As I’ve said before, you’re the one who kidnapped me and brought me here, remember?”
His nostrils flare, but he doesn’t respond, a confused and suspicious expression ghosting across his face.
“You’ve been here a full day and haven’t attempted to gain access to a phone or computer. Instead, when I assume you’ve tried to escape, I find your outdoors toying with my horse,” he accuses, while I’m in the middle of putting one shoe back on.
“You said he wasn’t yours,” I reply, turning my head to face him when I’m back upright.
He shortens the distance between us, caging me in on the large bench that doesn’t feel quite so large now that he’s in front of me. “Stop talking and put your fucking shoes on,” he says, reaching down for my other shoe and shoving it between us.
I blink. Aww.
His obvious attempt to scare me is kind of cute.
I hide my smile and lean up, pressing my lips to his, ignoring when the shoe drops to the floorboards. When he doesn’t immediately pull away, I reach my hands up and smooth them over his broad chest like I’ve been itching to do since I saw him running up that hill.
His body could be made of stone above me, but his quick intake of breath and response tells me a lot more than I’m sure he wants it to, because Frank Stein acts like he’s never really been kissed.
Or if he has, he’s certainly not used to it, if the way his muscles instantly go stiff beneath me is any indication.
He groans when I twist my head and deepen the kiss, and I unfurl from the bench seat, opening my legs.
His pectorals bunch and move beneath my palms, and I soften my mouth, leading him in before I pull away and dive back in, meeting his lips in a wet, hot slide that sends me careening into lust. We moan together, and it’s as if the sound we make breaks the spell.
Frank pulls away, looking more confused now than before.
My heart thundering in my chest, orange blazes in his gaze, and I freeze, waiting for him to stand up, but he doesn’t. He stares at me in puzzlement; his gaze drops to my mouth, and a hard look coasts over his expression, his lips turning down into a deep frown.
“Hey—” I blurt, wanting to somehow apologize for something that I’m not sure of yet, but understanding I’ve probably crossed a line.
I’m picked up and jostled until Frank sits on the large bench beneath me. It’s clearly made for his massive frame as it easily supports him, and I don’t have to look but I know his feet don’t dangle like mine did.
His hands go to my hips, breaking my train of thought when the warmth from them seeps beneath my sweatpants. “Holy shit, how are you this warm?” I ask, my gaze flying open when he ducks his head and firmly plants his lips to mine.
The smoothness of his skin registers as my eyes close and I’m immediately pulled into his passionate embrace. Frank may not have kissed a lot, but he sure catches on quick. His mouth eats at mine, making my breath catch in my throat.
Soon I’m mewling and whimpering, in need of more friction as he consumes me. I don’t care. Let him eat me whole, starting with the throbbing spot nestled right outside my pussy.
“Please,” I gasp out between oxygen intakes, and I’m rewarded with a deep, dark chuckle.
One large palm engulfs my face as he forcibly twists my jaw, moving his lips to my ear and effectively holding me in place. “Please, what?” he asks, his smooth lips coasting along the shell of my ear.
Shivers spread across my right shoulder, and my hips move of their own accord, tilting right where I want his cock, between my legs. But I don’t answer. Instead I arch my hips over his length, like I’ve been wanting to do ever since he moved me in his lap.
His big body under mine is hot, his skin warm and heated through his business attire.
What is he?
Before I can push enough braincells together through my lust-filled haze to ask again, his hand closes firmly around my jaw and my mind goes on break.
Oh my god.
Wetness floods my center as he stares at me as if he’s not sure what to make of me. His blonde brows crash together across his broad forehead as I tremble, wondering what he’s going to do next.
“No more questions,” he grates out, squeezing my mouth between his fingers.
I attempt to nod emphatically, willing to keep my mouth shut as long as he doesn’t stop touching me.
A broken moan exits my smooshed mouth when his hips raise up and shove into mine. Orange light begins to ooze from his gaze, and my stomach dips.
I don’t school my expression in time as he closes his eyes, hiding whatever power he has from me and moving to kiss me in one swift move. His tongue tangles with mine, sending my body into overdrive as my fingers dive into his white-blonde hair.
His hands are everywhere. One hand grips my ass just how I like it, while another rubs circles over my clit through my clothes. Butterflies flap in my stomach as need rachets up with his every caress.
It’s as if Frank is laying claim to my body, turning me into putty without even trying. Our heavy breathing mingles together as he pulls back. I watch and wait as he glares at me, his nostrils flaring in way that tells me he’s not exactly happy about this turn of events.
I start to tell him I didn’t start this on my own with how hateful he looks, but then he reaches down between my legs with both hands. A tear rents the air, and a breeze touches my thighs as I’m jostled and turned in his lap like a doll.
“What the fuck,” I say, but my head bows and a keening cry exits my mouth the next moment.
One thick finger slides into me, hooking onto my g-spot as if the pad of it is magnetized to where Frank knows he can do the most damage.
I come hard and grip onto Frank’s forearm for dear life.
He stills, allowing my body to squeeze down on his hand, allowing me a reprieve from the pleasure assaulting my senses.
“Oh, fuck.” My breathing goes choppy and my nipples strain against the fabric of my bra as he strokes my pussy again.
I blink when he reaches up and whisks my glasses from my face, placing them on the bench next to us.
The move is almost tender, and the complete contrast has me reeling before he starts finger fucking me, using his thick index finger like a dildo, pulling my head into his chest and holding me close as he does.
I twist my face into his shirt, breathing in the expensive cologne. The sounds of my body suctioning his fingers fills the stable, heightening my arousal. There’s a sharp sting at the back of my head before Frank tugs me to his lips, shoving his against mine messily as I ride his hand shamelessly.
My eyes fly open when I start to come again, but the sight of Brom standing inside the stable, his gaze clearly on us on the wide bench startles me.
I break our kiss, and pull back, thankful when Frank slows his ministrations on my body as I am so not ready for an audience, especially not one that could set fire to the place.
Brom steps closer, his nostrils billowing with smoke, his reins dragging the ground. I want to whine at the loss when Frank pulls his fingers from my pussy, obviously catching onto what’s stolen my attention.
Too quickly my torn pants are set to rights, and I’m pushed behind Frank, my back shoved into the wood of the bench in two short moves.
“What’s he doing?” I murmur, grabbing hold of the back of his suit shirt like a lifeline as the horse moves ever closer, flames licking up his hooves.
Frank grumbles something under his breath and I swear I can make out the words “ungrateful asshat” just as Brom bursts fully into flames.
Red and orange flickers across the horse’s massive frame and the leather saddle, reins and all, melts off his back as the fire seems to burn even hotter, all while he stares at Frank. It’s almost like he’s accusing him of making him wear it too long.
“Well, I guess he was done wearing that,” I say, once the ashes are in a short pile dusting the Percherons’ big hooves.
He whinnies and knickers and I can’t help but laugh.
Making out with the world's most eligible bachelor in a stable with his Ponyta is definitely a goal.
“Whose horse did you say he was?” I ask.
“The Headless Horseman’s,” Frank utters, his tone like gravel, a pissed off expression writ large across his face.
Oh my god. “I knew it.”